


#occupyblanket

by lazulisong



Category: X-Men: First Class - Fandom
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-09
Updated: 2012-03-09
Packaged: 2017-11-01 17:14:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/359306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazulisong/pseuds/lazulisong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt from Bill Radish:  "It's become something like an injoke between me and a few friends, but we are sincere in our desire to see more of these stories.</p><p>We want #occupyblanket fic.</p><p>Any character, any fandom, any pairing, any reason. Someone holds, or threatens to hold, a protest where they occupy their own (or someone else's!) bed and refuse to move. Can be serious on their part or joking."</p><p>Well, okay then!</p>
            </blockquote>





	#occupyblanket

#occupyblanket #warmtelepath #mykids #notleaving

"It doesn't actually count as a protest if you're still on your phone," points out Charles, which is a lie and also unfair, because he has his douchey hipster Android tablet with him and isn't even reading with Wanda and Pietro. He's reading a genetics PDF. Granted, with Pietro's face mashed against his ribs and Wanda kicking at him in her sleep, but he has no room to complain about Erik.

Anyway, it's not like Erik is doing anything but gloating at his enemies (Erik doesn't really do _friends_ ) about how it's snowing out and instead of having to go to work anyway (Logan) or being alone in a cold penthouse (Emma, not that she gives a shit), or even sitting around building things out of Legos and arguing with a hot blond (Tony), he is in his own amazingly comfortable bed with his own amazingly comfortable telepath and his kids are sound asleep and near him and he doesn't have to go anywhere or do anything.

He might even get Charles to put aside his douchey hipster tablet and go get hot drinks. Erik's not moving, that’s for sure. Maybe when the twins wake up they can bring their books and Erik can continue not leaving the bed. Forever, maybe. Erik knows, rationally, that if nothing else the tyranny of the human bladder will overcome his reluctance, and he probably will get restless eventually. Someday. But right now it would take an army to move him.

“Oh, Erik, really?” says Charles, putting his tablet aside to look at him and raise his eyebrow.

Wanda proves Erik’s point by flopping over Erik’s chest. Her hair is in his face, and he doesn’t even care. He strokes over her auburn curls -- so much like her mother’s that he has a flash of sweet pain, missing her and grateful for what he has all at once -- and touches her ear, the metal earring there. He’s going to have the only kids whose teenaged rebellion involves _not_ wearing jewelry ever. He’ll thinks of something else, though, because Erik is sneaky and his kids are already hellions when they put their minds to it.

“You love us,” says Erik, and his voice cracks just the littlest bit, saying that out loud. It’s amazing. It’s ridiculous. It’s unbelievable, but here they are.

“Well,” says Charles, and winces. He reaches down and pulls Pietro’s hand away from his side, where he had apparently pinched Charles in his sleep. “There’s times I find you tolerable, I suppose.” He reaches over and pecks Erik’s lips, dry and short because of the bulk of the twins between them. “ _Not_ when your son is clawing me in his sleep, I may add.”

“You love my son,” says Erik. “You love my daughter, and you even love me.” He swallows hard and says, “And we love you.”

“I know,” says Charles, and Erik can feel the warm glow of it, all around them, surrounding them, dissipating the cold of the storm outside. “I’m still not making cocoa, though.”


End file.
